


Kiss and Tell Me About it

by Belayday



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Kissing Booths, M/M, POV Derek Hale, Pining, The Hales are Alive, but they don't make an appearance, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-04
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-12-04 06:25:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/707562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Belayday/pseuds/Belayday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is manning the lacrosse team's kissing booth at the town fair. Derek notices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss and Tell Me About it

**Author's Note:**

> My first fic! This is pretty crack, okay all crack. But people were talking about kissing booth fics on my tumblr dash and I couldn't help myself at all. So here's my humble usage of the trope.
> 
> This is an au where the Hales are alive, Derek is several years out of high school, and Stiles is a senior. Werewolves are still a thing, but since the Hales were never killed, Scott was never bitten.

Derek is washing his hands in the fairground's restroom when he hears it. “Hurry up! Stiles is in the booth!” Booth? What the hell did that mean? He dried his hands on his jeans and walked quickly down the hall towards where the voices had come from. There was a group of giggling girls all walking briskly towards a booth that had a long line of people milling around the front of it. He scowled, wondering what the hell any of this had to do with Stiles.

There was a banner at the top that stated in bold red letters 'Buy a Kiss!', and under the banner was... sweet merciful Jesus. That was Stiles, pulling back from brushing lips with a short blonde girl, looking utterly baffled as he eyed the line of people waiting to kiss him. Stiles swiped the back of his hand over his mouth, then darted his tongue over his lips. Derek's eyes locked onto the sight and he was walking towards the end of the line, his feet way ahead of his brain.

His younger sister Emily had dragged him to the town faire stating that he couldn't just brood in the house all day, and that some actual sunshine and socialization would be good for him. She had been rather cryptic, dropping hints about how he might be particularly interested in the lacrosse team's fundraising event. Derek highly doubted that being subjected to hordes of loud imbeciles was good for anyone, and he would definitely not be interested in a bake sale or whatever else lame fundraiser it was put on by bunch of teenagers and yet, here he was. Alone too, because as soon as they arrived Emily had waved and called out to a group of girls, and Derek would tolerate many things for his sister, but giggling girls was not one of them. He had slipped away quietly and wandered through the various stalls and booths, nothing really catching his interest. He had determined that he would head home as soon as possible without drawing Emily's wrath. Apparently his body had not gotten the memo though. He stepped forward in the line and tried to avoid growling at each person that kissed Stiles.

Stiles, the manic guy that Derek couldn't tear his eyes away from whenever he saw him in town. Stiles, Emily's friend who she never shut up about, who would come over to their house and make his entire family laugh as easy as breathing while Derek sat quietly in the corner and tried to not give his attraction away to his entire nosy family. Stiles, with his long expressive fingers, surprisingly broad shoulders, big doe eyes, and plump pink lips. Lips which people were paying to kiss for a freaking _dollar_. They were _unworthy._ Derek clenched his fists, feeling his claws extend just slightly. He sucked in a deep breath, he needed to get himself under control, he could not wolf out in the middle of the day surrounded by the entire town. He blocked out the slightly wet sound of someone's lips separating from Stiles', the noise making him inordinately furious. He had hardly even carried on a proper conversation with Stiles, he had no claim to him. He hadn't done more than grunt, quite expressively he thought, and answer in monosyllables at Stiles whenever the lanky teen had tried to initiate conversation. It was not Derek's fault that he couldn't get his mouth to work around the young man. Scowls and guttural noises should be enough to express his ardor and utter devotion.

Derek was only a few people from the front now and he dared to look up. Stiles' eyes locked onto his and widened in shock and surprise. He saw Stiles' jaw drop slightly, and couldn't help the light growl that rumbled from his chest when the guy kissing Stiles took that as an invitation to lean his head in more and stick his disgusting, gross tongue in Stiles' mouth. The (soon to be dead) guy raised a hand to Stiles' cheek and the touch seemed to startle Stiles and he pulled back, sending a weak smile at the guy as he open a bottle of water and gulped some down, avoiding looking down the line. Derek could hear Stiles' heartbeat; it had skyrocketed when they had locked eyes. Was it in fear? Disgust? Derek's eyebrows furrowed at that thought. He tried to take a subtle sniff to scent the air, but gagged when all he could smell was thick and heavy lust from each person in line. He was second from the front now.

Reaching into his wallet, Derek pulled out a single dollar bill, then paused, glanced up at the sign that said '3 seconds for a dollar!' and shoved the dollar back in and grabbed out a twenty. Three seconds was not nearly enough. He heard someone say “Like kissing a cloud, oh my _god_.” several yards to his left and gritted his teeth. What was Stiles doing in a kissing booth anyways! Didn't he know that a person would have to be an absolute idiot to not want a taste of that mouth? He was being swarmed by lecherous people with bad intentions. Derek did not place himself among their ranks, his plans involving Stiles' mouth were entirely noble and beautiful. They were poetic. Apparently Stiles hadn't anticipated being so sought after, because he still looked vaguely baffled and shy behind the booth partition. Derek resisted the urge to just push the girl in front of him out of the way when Stiles glanced up at him and pressed his teeth into the soft flesh of his lower lip. The werewolf angrily watched them kiss, and then finally it was his turn.

He smacked the hand holding the twenty onto a table at the front of the booth that held the money jar, hearing the wood groan slightly, and then he brought up both hands to cup Stiles' jaw, hearing Stiles stammer out a greeting before he interrupted the teen by leaning in and pressing their lips together. Stiles tasted of dozens of strangers and Derek felt a snarl wanting to rip from his throat. He wanted to know what Stiles tasted like, just Stiles. He licked slowly over the younger man's lips, feeling Stiles shiver under his hands. Stiles' jaw opened with a moan and Derek licked into Stiles' warm mouth like a man starved. He could feel a low sub-vocal growl of contentment rumbling in his chest as he crowded closer to Stiles. He smiled against the other man's mouth when Stiles lifted his hands and buried them into Derek's hair, pulling them impossibly closer. He bit gently into Stiles slightly swollen lip and sighed happily into his mouth. His eyes had drifted closed at some point, but they snapped open when someone cleared their throat unhappily behind him. He pulled back from Stiles to scowl a warning at the interruption before snapping his head back around to stare at Stiles.

“Holy shit. Derek. Hello, hi. Oh my god we just kissed, like, really kissed, not booth-safe kissing. That was entirely a non-booth approved kiss. Your mouth. Tongue. We... you...” Stiles was babbling, fingers running over his lips, pupils blown wide with lust and locked onto Derek. Onto Derek's mouth.

Derek wanted to say things. He wanted to ask Stiles to go get some ice cream with him, he bet that Stiles liked ice cream a lot. He wanted to tell Stiles to never kiss anyone other than him again. He wanted to lean back in and see if it was possible to kiss someone so thoroughly that you could not tell where one person ended and the other began. Derek didn't say or do any of those things. What he managed to do was grunt articulately at Stiles, eyes burning.

Stiles just smiled at him, a bit fondly, and leaned back to yell at someone. “Hey, Scott! Come here you big doofus, I am officially off shift. You mack on some strangers for a while.” He turned back to Derek and raised his eyebrows expectantly while he stepped over the front of the booth. “Want to maybe tell me what that was all about? Maybe over funnel cake? In case that was unclear, I am saying that you may buy me some funnel cake, and I will eat it. You will hopefully use full words, and we will have a conversation? I assume you can afford it, you big spender you, considering you just smacked down what, a whopping twenty bucks to make out with me.”

Derek felt helpless against the smile growing on his face. “Would it make you feel better if I said I would have spent fifty?”

Stiles smiled and then quickly slipped his hand into Derek's. “Yes actually, it is important that you realize that I am a precious commodity. I will not tolerate being undervalued. So am I to assume that this means you finally got all the hints I have been not-so-subtle about throwing your way for the past forever?” Stiles shook his head and barked out a laugh. “Emily hasn't stopped teasing me about it for months.”

Derek was determined that he would _not_ pull Stiles into a dark corner and convince him of exactly how precious he was. Funnel cake. Stiles wanted funnel cake. Derek would buy him funnel cake and not propose to him _with_ the funnel cake. No one agreed to forever over fried foods, that would be ridiculous.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
